


When The War Is Won

by thecattydddy



Series: The History of South Italy and America [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Fluff, M/M, War, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4444919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecattydddy/pseuds/thecattydddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred is heartbroken when the people staying with him all leave to go fight a pointless war in Europe. Separated on opposing sides, Romano and him try not to think of the past, but when the war finally comes to a close, maybe they can have a happy ending, at last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The War Is Won

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'd originally used a random prompt generator to get the prompt "One goes to war, the other waits for their return," but then it evolved into this and well... I honestly wasn't even sure how into this fandom I still was. Nice to know my OTP can pull me back from Marvel hell. Too bad I must return to it to work on this tiny Steve fic. 
> 
> I would like to warn you that there is this emotional connection like thing the nations experience when they visit each other's homes. It's better explained in the fic, really, but if you have any questions about it, I can do my best to answer those in the comment section. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the Romerica. I would love to hear any feedback and I apologize in advance for any historical inaccuracy. I am fairly certain I remembered most of the information used in the fic from class and previous research, but I was too lazy to double check.

“I have to go home.”

Alfred furrowed his brow, confused, “I… Don’t understand. Don’t you like it here?” Romano glanced over at him, instantly regretting having done so. He looked pathetic, like a kicked puppy.

“I like it here just fine, Bastard. I just… I have to go home to my brother before he does anything stupid.” Romano wrung his hands together. In everything that had happened, he couldn’t really bring himself to say he hadn’t enjoyed his stay in America. Sure, they’d crashed - Pretty badly, in fact - after the first war, but America hadn’t lost hope. He’d kept food on the table and worked countless jobs to try and pull in a little extra. They might not have had new clothes, but they’d had each other. The couple of others who’d been with them for a time had been good company, too. Like a big happy family, who all sat around the fire and listened to Alfred tell stories of days since past. Even despite their large numbers, Alfred still found time for him, too. How many times had they sat out under the stars and talked? How many times had Alfred pulled him close when he was about ready to fall apart and helped put him back together?

The answer, of course, was countless.

“It’s not safe in Europe,” Alfred mumbled, reaching out to take Romano’s hands in his own, “They don’t _learn,_ Italy. The first one wasn’t enough so they will just keep fighting forever. Don’t go back to that.”

“That’s exactly why I have to,” Romano pulled himself out of Alfred’s hold, clenching his fists at his side, “What if your siblings were in trouble, America? Wouldn’t you help them?”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“It’s _exactly_ the same thing, Bastard,” Romano growled, shooting Alfred an irritated look, “My baby brother needs me, now.”

“Why would you go back to him?” Alfred demanded, his voice cracking with heartbrokenness, “He’s done nothing to help you, Italy! Nothing! I have given you a place to stay and a job and kept you happy to the absolute best of my ability and it’s still not enough? I’ve helped so many people and no one wants to stay?” Romano’s heart dropped at the way Alfred’s eyes shimmered, threatening tears they both knew he would not let fall. Not now, anyways. America, the great and mighty United States, stood before him with the ability to have anything he’d ever want - Even in the midst of this depression that’s befallen them - and the one wish that cannot be granted is such a simple one. How badly does he want a family he cannot have? How young is the nation before him that he doesn’t understand broken promises and disowned brothers? How many times has he been hurt because he cannot accept their curse?

“Because it is my responsibility,” Romano sighed, brushing a piece of blonde hair away and resting a hand against Alfred’s cheek, “I would love to stay here, but I can’t. It’s not where I belong.”

“Why not?” Alfred sniffled, placing his own hand atop the one on his face.

“Because we will soon be enemies,” Romano explained, calmly, “Everything you’ve done for me is not in vain, America, but my country is bound for war and we will not be allies in it. It’s the way our kind work. Surely you’ve seen that before.”

“If I was in charge of the world, then I’d make sure nobody had to fight each other.” Alfred closed his eyes, trying to capture these few moments, “Families and friends wouldn’t have to turn on each other like this. I wouldn’t let wars take you all from me.”

“I look forward to that day,” Romano agreed, pulling the young blonde into an embrace, letting him hide his face in Romano’s shoulder. Fingers gripped the back of his shirt, all but begging him to stay. For the first time since he’d arrived, Romano realized just how lonely and silent Alfred’s big house really was.

* * *

 

“This whole meeting is stupid,” Alfred grumbled under his breath, arms crossed over the table and chin resting on them. Arthur ran around preparing for the various nations that would be arriving any minute. Alfred had been staying with the Englishman for the past few days, ever since he’d declared war on the Axis powers. His boss had been more than thrilled to have him interacting with others, even if Congress had been at odds over the decision.

“Sit up, Lad. People will be arriving soon and you need to look respectable,” Arthur directed, putting a cup of tea next to him. Alfred eyed it with distaste before pushing it away from him. He was more used to drinking coffee these days, anyways.

“I don’t see why it matters,” Alfred grumbled, “You all look awful, anyways. Why do I have to be any different?”

“What do you mean by _that_?” Arthur demanded, clenching his fist.

“I mean exactly what I said,” Alfred spat back, staring down Arthur, “You’ve got bags under your eyes and bandages on your bodies. Every single one of you is coming down with something and the number of burns hidden under your uniforms is ridiculous. You all fight these wars which cause you bodily damage just as much as your people and yet you never stop. It’s constant conflict and ill-will with you all. I would never do this with my neighbors. Hell, I’m _furious_ at Mexico over a lot of things - Old and new - but I wouldn’t start a _war_ over it! I don’t even want to _be_ here and I wouldn’t if Japan hadn’t dragged me into this. I am needed much more by my people at home, yet I’m forced to fight in this war. _Why_? Why should pretend to be respectable for _that_?”

Arthur was silent for a moment, contemplating. He set his own cup down and took a seat beside Alfred, placing a hand on his knee, “Now, listen here, Alfred-“

“Don’t call me that,” he interrupted, shifting out of Arthur’s reach, “You lost that right a while ago.”

“Oh, but I’m sure all those people you kept in your home called you that.” Arthur sat up straighter, unamused. “And I’m sure that, if they come back, they could call you that, again. How many of them do you fight against, now, Alfred? How many of them left you and came to fight in this war? Would you rather be in that empty house of yours? Reminded of how lonely you are?”

“You don’t know anything about-!” Alfred objected, but Arthur cut him off, again.

“You don’t think I haven’t had my fair share of heartbreaks? Of betrayals?” Arthur took him by the lapels, pulling him down so they were eye level. “My family was raised with the mentality we were forced to kill each other. My only friend growing up was the frog. You were supposed to be different and we both know how _that_ ended. We don’t have the luxury of picking our allies, America. We only can appreciate them while they last. Your friends now are the ones who will be sitting around this table, so you best pretend like you’re happy to see them.”

“But I’m _not_ happy to see-!”

They froze when the door to the meeting room opened, Yao standing there looking between the two, “I am not interrupting…?”

“Of course not! America here was just… Reminiscing.” All eyes turned to him and he could practically feel Arthur’s glare on his skin.

“Yeah.” he forced a smile. “That’s all.”

* * *

“I hate you, _bastardo_ ,” Romano scowled, hovering in the doorway as Ludwig worked. The German glanced up at him for a moment, eyebrow raised.

“I do not understand why you are so aggressive towards me.” the German rubbed his temple, trying to alleviate the stress that came with dealing with his ally’s elder brother.

“Besides the fact that you’re a shit stain?” Romano leveled his glare at the macho man. It disgusted him to so much as look at the idiot. His blonde hair and his blue eyes, they were disgusting and wrong. The serious and no nonsense expression he wore at all times lit a fire in Lovino's heart, but not the adoring kind. More like the kind that wanted to make him understand exactly how formidable an Italian could be if they so chose. How had Feliciano come to be so infatuated with… _This_.

“I have given you no reason to think that,” Ludwig stated, as if it was a simple fact, “I have housed you upon your brother's request and provided you both with any things you find necessary. I have protected you from our mutual enemy. I have even gone to lengths completely selfish as a means to make you happy. My superiors would have my head if they knew just how kind I have been to you while the German people suffer. I expect you to show a little respect… And maybe you and your brother could start pulling your weight around here a little.”

The remark was biting and, once it was complete, Ludwig returned his attention to his work as if Romano wasn't worth the moment he had already wasted. He could hardly believe his ears. Of course, the burly German would never have said these things to his baby brother. No, _Feliciano_ was perfect and useful, but Romano? He was a deadweight. Only kept around because Feliciano had batted his pretty little eyes and pleaded with Ludwig. The feeling left Romano sick. For all he'd left behind, this was what he was left with. Sure, he'd been encouraged to do his part in the past, but never like this. He'd never had his basic needs held against him by…

It was better not to dwell on those times, though. He had more important things to worry about now. A brother who barely acknowledged he existed, for instance. Or the weird Japanese man who was just so desperate to prove to the rest of the world that he was capable of grand things, too. Anything was more important than getting lost in old memories… Anything.

* * *

“They'll probably try to come from the south.” Ludwig prattled away, Feliciano hanging on his every word as he pointed at maps and said things the latter probably didn't even understand. Their Japanese ally, Kiku, was a few feet away, trying to ignore the bubbly Italian and focus on the information the German was supplying. Romano leaned against a wall, far enough away from the table that he could hear them if something important came up, but not have to engage except by choice. Like he expected, they were ignoring him completely. The albino across the room was in much of the same predicament, but at least Ludwig took time for the bastard when he wasn't working. These days, Feliciano only had time for _Germany_.

As if he knew his big brother was thinking mean things about him, the Italian spoke up, “You know, I heard that they're planning on putting all the efforts into this one. Even _Canada_! _”_

_“_ Who is _Canada_?” Kiku wondered, his words slightly influenced by his asian accent. It wasn't a horrible sound, but it wasn't anything like the Brooklyn accent that had been a part of so many of his days. He closed his eyes, the back of his head resting against the hard concrete wall, and tried to imagine it's owner coming in and socking Ludwig right in the jaw – Just like that one guy in the comics did to the jerk's boss; He'd managed to get ahold of some of the Captain's more popular adventures by some partially illegal means. Nothing he would have to answer for later, of course.

“ _Ve_! A state in America, I think? Maybe one of the lower ones near the South America!”

“Oh? Do you think America will come with this _Canada_?”

“Don't see why not!”

This seemed to draw Romano out of his daydream and back to reality. For a fraction of a second his heart fluttered and he burst out, “America is coming?”

They were all startled by his sudden contribution. Ludwig was the first to speak up. “It's a very likely possibility. My boss has been advised that the least amount of protection is needed in your area.” Romano considered the idea of the young nation stepping across his land, feeling that connection to another like them that visiting him brought. One that didn't fill his mouth with bile the way Germany's presence did. He could envision Alfred, his dorky glasses and the cute grin that seemed to always be on his face sweeping across the city and embracing him and promising to take him away from all the stupid war here that he didn't want to be part of, anymore. Ludwig shattered this image with his next sentence, “You will need to be extra vigilant. Have your soldiers ready because I will only be able to spare a handful of men.”

And just like that, the illusion shattered. He may not want to be in this stupid war, but he was. It was not something he could deny and certainly not something Alfred would forget. He'd left the young nation early on to fight in Europe. He'd been insistent that his baby brother – Who had become no more attentive of him in his absence – needed him. He'd already chosen Feliciano over Alfred and the _stupidity_ of it all hit him like a brick. Alfred had been right in saying they'd be playing the same song and dance, just with a little change up in the partners. It was sickening.

“Ve? _Fratello_?” Feliciano waved a few fingers in his face, trying to get him out of his trance. Romano leveled him with a glare, brushing his hand away and moving past him towards the door.

“I'll be able to handle it.”

* * *

The moment his feet touched down on the soil, he could feel Romano everywhere. Alfred was overwhelmed at first. He hadn't been able to reconnect with any of them. The one or two occasions where he'd tried to reach out to some of his old charges, the messages had been apprehended and Arthur had pulled him aside by the ear and scolded him. To be denied that for so long and then to suddenly feel it close in on him from every direction was… Intense.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and he looked over to see Matthew beside him, concern on his face. His face must have given away his emotions, because the other blonde was suddenly holding onto the back onto the back of Alfred's hair in a comfortable manner that he'd received a lot more in his younger days. “Alfred, are you alright?”

“Yeah?” he said, not brushing his northern neighbor away, but implied wanting to with his tone, “Why wouldn't I be.”

Matthew simply pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. It was a little dirty, but he managed to find a relatively clean spot and started wiping at Alfred's face like some kind of motherhen. At this, Alfred really did push him away, “Woah, Man! What are you, Arthur? I don't need you cleaning my face.”

“Alfred,” Matthew whispered in that quiet voice that came so naturally to him and that the southern brother could never seem to imitate, “You were crying.”

“Don't be an idiot,” Alfred argued, but when he brought his hands to his face, it came back damp. “Huh? I don't… I...”

Matthew had a look of understanding about him, pulling Alfred away from the others coming off the ship, “It's about the other Italy, right? You can feel him here, can't you?”

“I just don't leave home much,” Alfred insisted, wiping at his eyes. Arthur had him on a path of denying any connection with the enemy and like hell he was gonna cave to his brother. “I get a weird feeling whenever I visit anyone. People's opinions about me are strong, you know? You know, like how when we're at Arthur's and it feels like a fretting parent all the time.”

“I… Don't have that feeling at Arthur's, Alfred.” Matthew managed a small smile, but it was a sad smile. Like he was really hurting but didn't want to admit it.

“Oh. Uh. Well, like I said. People just have really strong opinions about me. 'Cuz I'm the hero. Even villains like Italy.”

“Right.”

“So, uh...” Alfred rubbed the back of his neck, looking around them to try and ease the tension, “Speaking of villains, you didn't happen to see him, did you? Italy, I mean. The Southern one.”

“No,” Matthew shook his head, “By the time we arrived, they'd abandoned post. I heard Italians were cowards, but usually they stay and surrender. This was a retreat. Like they didn't want to confront us.”

“Maybe they were scared of me. I am pretty tough and intimidating,” Alfred remarked, puffing out his chest and blowing up his cheeks. It might have been cuter if he was still physically five.

“Maybe. Or maybe they were feeling something a little different.”

Alfred stared at Matthew, confused. “Like what?”

* * *

Having Alfred come to him was a weird feeling. At first, he'd almost missed the feeling of his presence because of the constant comings and goings of the others. It was like having a bunch of small part of yourself that you hated inside of you and sometimes the feeling went away and sometimes it stuck around like a pest. Really, there were days both Arthur and Ludwig were within his borders and he was pretty sure he would have physically clawed them out of his skin if it would have helped.

The longer the nation stayed, however, the stronger their connection got. They interacted with the people and the land and settled inside of him as stronger and stronger emotions. They became a part of him. Feelings of mild dislike became closer to hatred – The potato brain, for instance – and mild appreciation became something a whole lot harder to explain. By the time Alfred had left for his other responsibilities, Romano thought his heart had been ripped directly out of his chest. And the poor young nation experienced this what? four, five, six times? On probably a much deeper scale? No wonder he'd been begging Romano to not to leave him, too. What kind of bastard designed this torturous process?

Probably a good hour or two after Alfred's presence had disappeared, he was still laying in bed and wallowing when Feliciano came into his room, “Ve! _Fratello_! You haven't gotten up all day! Not even to eat! I'm worried!”

Romano glanced over at him, an eyebrow raised. The presence of his annoying little brother was making him feel mixed emotions and that wasn't helping him deal with his problem, any. “Ehk. Go away, _Cazzo_. I feel like shit.”

“Aaw. Do you have the flu?” Feliciano skipped over to him, pressing a hand to his forehead. “You don't have a fever.”

“I think my heart is failing,” Romano explained, swatting the younger away, “It's being all weird. And empty.”

“Oh! Like what happens to me when Germany isn't around?” Feliciano wondered, sitting on the bed beside him, a wide smile plastered on his face. Romano looked up to him, an eyebrow raised.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Feliciano shrugged. “Well, I mean, when he comes to visit for a really long time I get this really happy feeling, but when he goes away, I feel kind of empty. I don't feel so bad when I go with him back to his house, though. It feels nice there. A little confused, maybe, but nice. I think that's how he feels about me, but I don't really know for sure.”

Romano groaned, rolling away to look at the wall instead of his brother. Well, that would explain why Feliciano was so obsessed with the bastard. If being around him could have filled this empty feeling inside of him, then Romano might have been a little more receptive to the potato eater… Might being the keyword there.

“ _Fratello_.” Feliciano fidgeted, his picking at his fingernails and biting his lip.

“Hmm?”

“I think I might love him.”

This confession had Romano sputtering, momentarily forgetting about his own inner turmoil to deal with his idiot brother. “ _V_ _affancul_ _o_! Are you out of your mind? You can't love him, _idiota_!”

“Why not?” Feliciano demanded, slightly offended, “He's been really good to me – To us! - and I like being with him. I like how he looks and he sounds funny when he talks and I think he might like me back! Why can't I be in love? Who says?”

Romano was pretty sure he was about to lose it. Angry tears slipped past his eyes and he grabbed Feliciano by the collar until he was practically screaming in the other's face, “Because you're supposed to love me! You can't pick him because I wanted you to pick me! That's what I did! I gave up everything good I've ever had to come back to you! Because I thought you needed me! And this whole damn time you might have _loved him_? No way!”

Feliciano stared at the other, his brow furrowed before it dawned on him what the other was talking about, “You mean America? But I thought you didn't like it there. I thought he was mean to you and pushed you around and said mean things?”

“I just said that.” Romano admitted, burying his face in his pillow and trying to hide the tears which were flowing freely, now, “I didn't want you to feel bad for me coming back. I just wanted us to be brothers, again. That's the whole reason we did this stupid thing where we combined our kingdoms in the first place.”

Italy considered this, gently placing a hand on Romano's head. The angry Italian refused to look at him. “I'm sorry, _Fratello_. I didn't know.”

“Of course you didn't, _idiota_. That was the idea.” The feeling of hands brushing through his dark brown hair made him sniffle, calming down a little. Feliciano let him have a moment in silence before he spoke again.

“I didn't know how much you cared about me,” he explained, timidly, “And if that's the case, then… Maybe other people don't know, either. That pain you feel in you, _Fratello_? If it's the same one that I get with Germany, maybe… Maybe you love someone, too? Just because I like him doesn't mean I like you any less. Someone can love two people, you know. That's okay. And… Because of that… I wont be mad if you go to whoever that is that you love. I would very much like to see you happy like I'm happy with Germany.”

Romano swallowed, not quite sure those were the words he was hoping to hear, but knowing they were the ones he needed to. Reaching over to grab the handkerchief Feliciano offered him, he wiped his face, feeling a little better now that he'd let all that out. Feliciano gave him one last smile before leaving him with the promise of pasta and a lot to think about.

* * *

Alfred sighed, leaning back in his chair and placing his feet on the meeting table. His eyes closed on their own accord and he resembled the perfect picture of relaxed. All around him, the beaten and bruised nations gathered. He, himself, had some significant wounds from all the fighting, but nothing like theirs. They looked hollow and fragile and he was almost certain if someone had pushed them over, any one of them would have tumbled to the ground and shattered.

All except one, perhaps. One eye cracked open when he felt a gaze on him and, sure enough, the creepy Russian was giving him that smile that sent chills down most people's spines – Even him, though he didn't let it show. Alfred was hopeful that he instilled the same kind of fear in the other with his frown and fiery eyes, but he was also not giving anything away. If someone had told him Ivan was just as afraid of his unpredictable nature and violent tendencies as he was of the other's stealthy and sickening mind games, Alfred wasn't quite sure he would have believed them.

The issue of today was mostly hacking out occupation issues. Alfred had come in with the full intention of taking on the responsibilities of rebuilding the others all on his own, considering the state of his more trusted allies, but the ever cold Ivan wasn't going to make that easy. Arthur and Francis would want their cuts – Even if they were in no place to rebuild another country, let alone their own. He could see it in every single nation at the table that they wanted the spoils of war. Alfred mentally scoffed at their stupidity. Europeans never learned.

They all wanted to break the others down, destroy their resources and take for themselves. They didn't have the ideals of a better world like he did. Alfred, who was made up of a little of all of them – Even the Russian, though he hated to admit it – had been blessed with the ability to see working for himself was just going to make everyone lose. The cycle would just happen over and over again until their was no point in anything, anymore and the world was just burning. It needed to stop now, at this table. It was his responsibility as the most mentally stable and capable person here to stop it.

And so, they hacked out the details. Ivan had annoyed him to no end and the argument that had started up over Kiku alone was reason to send the others in the room cowering in their respective seats. If only to appease the Russian, Alfred had been forced to let him take his old mentor, Gilbert. It was sad, but Alfred knew first hand that the albino was tough. Hopefully he would forgive Alfred for this when him and Ludwig were reunited. Technically, he had places in Germany, but Ludwig had been left primarily in Arthur and Francis' care. Out of pity, Alfred had consented to Feliciano living with Francis so he could see the younger German while Alfred rebuilt most of Northern Italy. That had left the Southern Italian as the final pawn in the mix.

“I think it's only fair,” Ivan had begun his proposal, the sly expression on his face, “That I be placed in charge of the Southern portion. After all, you already have the North. My concern, of course, is that _Fredka_ will drain his resources doing all the heavy lifting.” Alfred momentarily drowned him out, back to sitting in his chair with his feet up. His allies looked about ready to cave to the decision and Yao was impatiently waiting for his own teammate to win them a little more land. So far, Alfred had been raking in the dough and it was obviously irritating the asian man.

His mind, was on other things. Bringing up Romano had brought back a wave of memories that'd been pushed to the back of his mind during the war. He felt a pang in his heart at those, but the hardest thing to handle had been the memory of being _in_ South Italy. The people and the place had been so beautiful and loving. A part of him liked to imagine they had been so open to him because they remembered what he'd done for their personification, but the more likely alternative is that he was a foreigner with a cute boyish face that told them the Germans were gonna be out before they knew it. After all, the reaction of the French during their liberation had been much the same. It'd been sad to leave those warm beaches and the blanket of comfort they brought, but Alfred had known that Romano probably was sick of feeling his presence there and wanted out, anyways.

When Ivan finished up his speech, he sat back down and all eyes turned to the young American. Tucking these painful memories away, he rose from his seat, leveling the table's occupants with the same unmovable expression he'd used all day. The effect of it hadn't worn off, yet, which was a little surprising to him.

“The idea that the areas need to be divided _fairly_ is stupid. We're rebuilding these guys - Not collecting them like trophies,” he began, lifting one leg to stand on the chair and settling the palm of his hand on his knee. The pose demanded authority and, more importantly, it made him look like a badass. “The Ruski doesn't need more land because we've got so much already. He, himself, is bigger than the entirety of Europe and we all know he's got his fingers in the surrounding countries – Don't even sit up and think you're gonna deny it, Big Guy. We all know. Besides, interrupting me would be a rude ass thing to do. I'm talking here.”

Ivan settled back down in his seat, his creepy smile fading just the tiniest bit, and Alfred continued. “The reason we split up Germany is because they could handle it. The German people are strong enough as one that they will easily mold back into one another once we've rebuilt it. The Italians? Not so much. The fragility of Italy is way to high to go around and occupy different pieces of them with different ideas and governments. What's gonna happen is another war which we are all trying to avoid. The Italian people need one reliable source with a lot of money and a lot of time. Since I've already got the north taken care of, the south is a no brainer.”

“But _Fredka_ ,” the Russian said, making Alfred narrow his eyes at him. That name got under his skin so much. It was disgusting, “You already have Japan! Do you not think I should take on one or the other? Surely, you do not think it fair you drain your resources with both?”

“My resources are fine, Daddy-o. Thanks for asking, though,” Alfred replied, the amusement on his lips not quite matching his eyes, “Japan was my mess and most of the damage to them will have to be dealt with by me. As for Italy, well… Let's just say I think I have a lot better chance of understanding them than you do. You go to the right boughs in New York and that's all I am, after all! Not to mention, I have a personal history with both boys.”

“I thought we weren't picking areas based on history,” Ivan pointed out, thinking he'd caught the American on some kind of technicality.

“Nice try, but that rule applies to rivalries. _My_ history is a good one. They'll be more than happy under my care. If you can name a country that actually would let you waltz into their land and rebuild it, _Ivan_ , then you can have dibs. Until then, keep your yap shut.”

The others were a little stunned by the finality of his speech and he sat down, again. The decision was made and if Ivan thought he was reversing it, then good luck to him. The other seemed to have much of the same thought process – Thank whatever holy force was up there – and, with a few last minute banters, the meeting was adjourned and the hard part was out of the way.

* * *

 

The former Axis nations had been asked to wait patiently in a room, looking a little worse off than any of them had wanted to at the end of it all. Gilbert had cracked a joke or two and Feliciano occasionally gave small chirps of encouragement, but otherwise they were silent.

Much to their dismay, the wall separating them from the meeting room was soundproof, but even that couldn't drown out the yelling on the other end at one point. When Kiku heard his name tossed between Russian and American accents, he visibly paled and complained of feeling suddenly sick. Feliciano patted his arm and Romano, knowing the nation wasn't on exactly good terms with either, actually felt sorry for the guy.

All around, worried faces looked anywhere but at each other. Feliciano had stopped comforting Kiku at one point and buried his face in Ludwig's shirt. For once, the blonde muscleman didn't complain. He just kept a hand on Feliciano's shoulder and held him close.

The truth was, no matter who they ended up with, the results would be the same. The spoils of war were always top priority and they would likely be stripped of the better part of their lands. Poverty would hit their people and they wouldn't even be able to defend themselves from future attacks. Italy would probably start crumbling eventually – Already their alliance was hanging on by threads. Maybe the German brothers would be squashed back into the tiny princedoms they'd been before. Wouldn't that be the silver lining?

Eventually, the doors to the room opened and their enemies stood before them. They looked just as tired and beaten as anyone, but those bastards didn't have to deal with the repercussions. Their anger would eventually shine through and it wasn't their hides that would be hurt in the process.

Eventually, they all started claiming their prizes. Ludwig seemed ready to object when he realized him and Gilbert weren't staying together, but the elder messed up his perfectly slicked back hair and promised that they'd be back together real soon. A somewhat miffed Arthur and that creep, France, led his brother and the potato bastard out of the room. Ivan was trailing behind Gilbert with glee and that left just Kiku and Romano to stand their and wait.

“Well, boys,” someone said from behind, startling both nations. Arms settled around their shoulders and Alfred's head popped up between them. A large grin was plastered on a face and a playful but not really threatening glint danced in his eyes, “It's just us, then. I was thinking about a slumber party. I haven't had one of those in a while. We can tell scary ghost stories and I'll see if I can score any treats. We're running low back home, but I can try. What do you say to that?”

“Uh… M-Mr. America….” Kiku began, his voice wavering. Romano had never seen the usually calm and collected man so shaken up.

“What's the matter, dude? Don't like scary stories?” Alfred questioned, looking his way, “There's really nothing to worry about. Everyone knows ghosts are totally fake. I definitely don't believe in them.” Romano had some first hand knowledge about that being a load of crap, but he kept the information to himself. He was beginning to wonder what kind of revenge Alfred would want to exact on him. He was being weird and friendly and that only made the Italian more suspicious. When Kiku was unable to make a full, coherent sentence, Alfred sighed and his arms fell away from them. He took a step backwards, drawing the attention of both his new charges.

“You're scared of _me_ , huh?” he asked, laughing a little bitterly. The playfulness had turned to sadness with just the smallest hint of hurt. “Look, I know we didn't exactly get along these past few years. I'll be the first to admit I've done some pretty messed up stuff. War does that to people.”

Neither of them dared speak, so he continued. “Whatever happened in the past, that doesn't matter anymore. You both have fought long and hard and the war is over. The fighting is done. I have enough of my own things at home to satisfying me without taking yours. What needs to happen now is that we all have to make up for our wrong doings. Some of the other guys, they still don't get it, but this kind of fighting is stupid. We're all civilized and mature individuals, so we should start acting like it. Me and my neighbors, sure we disagree with one another on occasion, but we don't fight like this. As a matter of fact, those two are some of my best friends – Even Mexico, that asshole.”

“I guess what I'm saying is...” Alfred rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little unsure of himself. Romano could practically _see_ exactly how young he was. How his idealistic mind just wanted everything to be better. He'd remembered the same exact thing back when he'd been staying with the other years before. “I want to help you guys be like that. No more fighting. No more world wars. We can't take another hit like that. I just want to make everyone get along. So… I'm gonna start with us. My job isn't going to be to take your money or your resources or your services. I'm going to have you two come stay with me for a little while. During that time, I'm gonna dedicate my time and money to build you guys back up. There'll be rules and I'm in charge, but it's not gonna be like before. I'm going to make you guys so tough that the rest of the world will have no idea what hit them. And, as an added bonus, I'll be using my own military and stuff to keep you guys safe. That way, we don't have to waste any money on scaring away the locals.”

“It's a lot to ask, but… Think you can trust me on this one?” The American held out his hands, one to each of them. The news was… A little unbelievable, to be completely honest. Victors in wars like these didn't _rebuild_ their enemies. They destroyed them so they could never be of any competition ever again. They ruined their economies and their people's pride and their farmlands. On the rare occasion where they didn't, they became like Grandpa Rome and incorporated everyone in – Made everyone follow their rules and pay their taxes and hail their emperors. It was completely unthinkable that maybe the end result could just be an end to the fighting.

Kiku, on the other hand, didn't share those worries. Or, maybe he just didn't express them. Whatever the case, Romano watched in alarm as the asian placed his hand over Alfred's accepting his offer. “It… It would be nice. To have no more war. I would like that.”

Alfred lit up like a little boy on Christmas morning. His whole set of teeth were showing and he was all but bouncing on the spot. How many times had his allies questioned his ideas to lead him to be this excited over one victory? Over one person that wanted to change? The pure and innocent nature of it all had Romano's heart melting. It'd been stupid of him to worry that the man that had accepted him and built him up before would do anything different now. It was insulting to their shared memories that he'd even questioned Alfred's intentions. Understandable, maybe, but still insulting.

With a huff, he placed his hand in the remaining one stretched towards him and for a second he was worried the other was going to start crying or something. Both himself and Kiku were suddenly pulled forward into an embrace that quite literally left them breathless.

“I've got the best of ideas for you guys,” Alfred squealed like a small school girl, burying his face in Romano's hair, “And I think you're really gonna like it at my house. I've got these really smart scientist guys that have invented so many cool things. I think you'll really like to see them. And, of course, I'll have my kitchen redone just for you, man. I haven't been in there much in a while because eating out is _way_ more convenient, but still. It's gonna be _incredible_.”

“Er, Mr. America,” Kiku gasped, “I am having trouble breathing.”

“Oh! Whoops!” he laughed, apologetically. It was like he'd forgotten he could crush bones with that grip of his. He carefully let them go and both took large breaths to refill their lungs. “Ha! Guess I got a little excited. And, you don't have to call me Mr. America, by the way. That makes me sound like some old dude like Britain. Alfred works just fine for me.”

“Oh. Of course… Alfred-san,” Kiku managed with a slight hesitance. This seemed to please Alfred, however and he slapped the Japanese man on the shoulder in camaraderie. He ushered them out of the room after this, a hand on either of their shoulders. They reached the exit to the building and Alfred handed his key to Kiku.

“My car's in the parking lot, Dude. Just go ahead and get yourself situated in it. I'll be right out.” Kiku bowed and left, leaving Alfred to turn to Romano, suddenly taking his hands before he could escape. He had a sheepish grin on his face and they were there, staring at one another quietly.

“Did you want to say something, Bastard?” Romano demanded, surprised in himself for not pulling away immediately. He was reminded momentarily of what Feliciano had told him a while back, but pushed that out of his head before it could take hold.

“Yeah, I… Uh…” Alfred's face tinted a slight pink and he dug his toes into the ground, but those baby blue eyes of his never wavered, staring almost directly into Romano's soul. “I'm really glad that you agreed to this. It's going to be nice to have you back.”

“This… This isn't going to be like before, Bastard.” Romano was suddenly speaking before he knew the words were coming out of his mouth. Alfred looked a little worried, his eyes widening to the size of saucer dishes.

“What? Why not?”

“Because,” Romano replied, refusing to look away. He wanted to make sure this message was very clear. There was no way he would be able to return to the kind of thing they'd had before. It was too good and those kinds of things caused too many heartbreaks. “We're… Different, now.”

“I'm not,” Alfred insisted, as if that would change Romano's mind. He sighed and slipped his hands out of the Blonde's hold. The kicked puppy look almost made him take the words back, but he had to be strong. It was the right thing to do. Nip this in the butt before it got out of control.

“Yeah, well… I am, alright? It's just not gonna work out here. Between us. Whatever… Us is.”

“I thought we were friends, though. Isn't that what you wanted?” Alfred's bottom lip was sticking out and Romano was beginning to wonder if this guy was really capable of taking on the task of rebuilding a country. He looked like he was about six, at the moment.

“No… That isn't what I wanted.”

“Well… I… What do you want the- Mmph!” Alfred was promptly cut off by the Italian pulling him down by the lapels, and Romano turned his head slightly so their lips locked, startling the younger nation. His eyes fluttered closed and he let the other hold him there for a moment until Romano decided to pull back. About a million and one reasons why that was a totally stupid idea and thoughts on how he'd totally just ruined his chances of not getting attached floated round in his head, but they were pushed aside by the flustered stuttering of Alfred.

“You just gonna stand there are day, Bastard?” Romano demanded, raising an eyebrow. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've never kissed anybody before.”

“Of course I have!” Alfred objected, holding his hand in front of his mouth. His entire face was bright red. “That was just really sudden! Plus, aren't you supposed to take someone out a bunch of times before you do that? Like, at least fifty or something?”

“ _Mi dio_ , don't tell me you're one of those old fashioned saves-themselves-for-marriage types,” Romano leveled him with a look. The pure embarrassment radiating off Alfred was enough to make Romano crack a smile.

“Of course not!” Alfred squeaked. Romano held out his hand to the other and Alfred was thrilled to take it, momentarily forgetting about the fact he was supposed to be upset with the other. Before the Italian knew what was happening, he was being pulled out of the building.

Kiku, who'd been waiting patiently by Alfred's car looked up at the arrival of the other two. Their fingers were interlocked and Romano had an irritated expression on while Alfred could have been easily described as the happiest person alive. He noted that they were cute together. In a fashion that would have been a little creepy to most people, he began assessing their compatibility in his mind and decided they'd probably make a surprisingly good couple. They seemed a little shy, now, but with a push in the right direction, there was potential. Considering he'd be staying with them for a while and didn't have anything else to do, Kiku decided he could definitely be that push.

 


End file.
